


A Beginning

by mizface



Series: Kitchen Sink [1]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizface/pseuds/mizface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser watched as the rest of the diplomatic retinue stopped for the night</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand thanks to hazelwho for reading later parts of this fic (before I knew they were later parts), tossing around a bunch of ideas, being supportive, and helping me find a good place to introduce this 'verse.

Fraser watched as the rest of the diplomatic retinue stopped for the night at a village a few miles’ ride out from the edge of the capital city. He could see them enter the inn from his spot at the edge of the forest that half-ringed the small collection of buildings that made up the town. The inn’s owner had obviously been prepared for their arrival, as had each place they’d stopped along the journey. That they were being treated so well was a good sign. He could only hope the reception at the palace would be as welcoming.

Fraser continued his unofficial watch as the horses were taken to the stables, and stayed where he was until dusk made the light too dim to see distances clearly. Satisfied, he turned and walked to the clearing in the forest where he’d set up camp for the night. It was a crisp, cool evening, warmer than his homeland, but at least there was no humidity. He breathed deeply, taking in the scents of trees and dirt, trampled leaves and musty mosses, grateful for one more night out of doors before he had to join back up with the rest of the group.

Fraser frowned as he thought about the upcoming negotiations. The treaty talks they were here for were important ones, moreso than any other Fraser had worked on before. So far, everything had gone as promised, but Fraser didn’t expect things to go as smoothly once they reached the Royal Court. Politics always mucked up the works.

Being at Court meant receptions, and negotiations, and under-the-table dealings, everyone vying for the best position. Even worse for him, it meant days on end indoors, with no time to walk the through gardens or even visit the horses at the stables. Add to that the layers on layers of finery he abhorred, and strange little foods that were never filling or particularly healthful, and Fraser once again couldn’t help but wonder why he’d chosen to be a Diplomatic Chronicler in the first place.

 _Because you had to follow in your father’s footsteps, remember?_ said a familiar voice in his head. _Even though it’s obviously not where your talents, or your heart would take you if given half a chance._

Fraser looked over to see a large gray and white wolf stroll into the campsite, a rabbit hanging from its jaws. He stopped in front of Fraser, dropping the dead animal at Fraser’s feet before sitting down and licking his chops.

“Thank you kindly for finding us some dinner,” Fraser said as he picked up the rabbit and pulled a knife from his belt to skin it with.

 _And keep my thoughts to myself?_ the wolf asked, head cocked.

Fraser sighed. That would be like asking the stars not to shine. “I’m happy to talk with you, Diefenbaker,” he answered. “Just not about things that can’t be changed.”

_Life is nothing but change. You leave us with little to discuss._

“You’re being deliberately difficult,” Fraser observed.

 _One of us certainly is,_ Dief remarked, then got up and walked to edge of the clearing. _There’s a stream this way, and I’m thirsty. Do you want some fresh water?_

“That would be helpful, yes,” Fraser replied, grateful for the change of subject. “Thank you, Dief.” 

The wolf nodded and snagged Fraser’s waterskin before leaving. _I’ll be back shortly. Don’t cook my portion,_ he sent back.

Fraser held back a reply. Cook your Bonded wolf’s dinner **once** , as a change of pace, and you pay and pay and pay.

*********

 _You’re not looking forward to tomorrow,_ Dief observed after dinner had been cooked (for Fraser, at least) and eaten.

“I will miss being outdoors like this,” Fraser admitted, eyes on the flicker of the flames of the small fire. “It’s a lucky thing that Thatcher has been so understanding.”

_Luck has nothing to do with it. You’re good at what you do, and it pays for your superiors to keep you happy._

“You overestimate my importance,” Fraser replied, shaking his head. “I’m a very minor part of this entourage.” 

_You’re the official Chronicler for the diplomatic party sent to work on details for a treaty between two kingdoms,_ Dief corrected. _That’s not minor._

“Try telling my father that,” Fraser sighed.

 _Try not comparing yourself to him,_ Dief growled back. _Better yet, forget about him entirely. If you really don’t want to be here, then find a reason to leave._

“I can’t do that! It would leave the treaty negotiations at a standstill until another Chronicler could arrive.”

 _I’d think a minor player could come and go as he pleased,_ Dief answered all-too innocently.

Fraser shot a glare in Dief’s direction. “You’ve made your point. Happy?”

 _No,_ Dief answered firmly. _Because **you** aren’t. I know you don’t want to admit it, but you aren’t satisfied with recording events instead of being part of them. It isn’t what you’re meant to do._

“How can you be so sure?”

 _Because I wouldn’t have been called to Bond with you if that were the case,_ Dief told him matter-of-factly. _You could do so much more, if you’d just let yourself._

Fraser looked down at his hands, silent, until Dief came over and nudged him with his nose. Fraser looked up, and Dief gave his cheek a quick swipe with his tongue.

_It’s just… this is a whole new world, Fraser. A new set of possibilities. Promise me you’ll be open to them?_

Fraser reached over to ruffle Dief’s fur, then pulled him close and leaned on his shoulder, one arm still wrapped around his Bonded’s side.

“I’ll try,” he finally whispered.

_That’s all I can ask._


End file.
